Two kinds of lost, one desire of God to find them

Sermon for Trinity 3

1 Peter 5:6-11  +  Luke 15:1-10

With all the…stuff…going on in the world, I’m so thankful we can come together here to focus on better things: the worship of God, not the worship of man; the word of God, not the word of man; the help of God, not the help of man. So let’s seek His help now and focus on the readings from today’s lectionary.

There is one natural state of mankind, one condition in which all people are born: lost. Lost and condemned. Lost and wretched. Lost and helpless. Part of that lostness involves impenitence, not being sorrowful over one’s sins against God and man, maybe not even acknowledging one’s sins against God and man. Being lost, being impenitent, means that a person is hostile to the true God, is already spiritually dead, and lives under God’s condemnation, and will most certainly perish eternally, if he or she remains lost.

There are two ways to be lost, two sides to impenitence, and we see both in today’s Gospel. First, we see the tax collectors (brazen thieves and traitors to their people!) and sinners (well-known, public scoundrels and sex workers). They’re lost. They’re impenitent. They indulge their sinful passions. They willfully participate in all kinds of sins, and they have no desire to stop. At least, not until they hear Jesus. These tax collectors and sinners in our Gospel were coming near to hear Jesus, and He was happy to have them come.

Second, we see the other lost group. In the Gospel they’re called Pharisees and scribes. These are the self-righteous people, often self-righteous religious people. They’re lost, too. They’re impenitent. They don’t believe God when He tells them that all have sinned and fall short of His glory. They don’t humble themselves before God, as Peter told us to do in today’s Epistle. Instead, they exalt themselves before God. They signal their own virtue far and wide and demonize those who don’t mimic their virtue. They don’t cry out for God’s mercy, they don’t appreciate His grace. In fact, they’re so arrogant and condescending that, when they see the tax collectors and sinners coming to Jesus, they get angry: The Pharisees and scribes murmured, saying, “This man receives sinners and eats with them.”

Since we have two groups of lost people in our Gospel, it’s fitting that we also have two little parables, one for each group. The parables are similar in many ways and we wouldn’t want to press the distinction too far. But we might say that the parable of the lost sheep focuses on the lost tax collectors, while the parable of the lost coin focuses on the lost Pharisees. (And the parable that comes right after our Gospel, the parable of the lost son, deals with both.)

The tax collectors and sinners were like the one sheep out of a hundred that gets lost. It’s the nature of sheep to wander, to go astray, to get themselves into trouble, because while they’re out exploring and indulging their natural desires for food or water or just for wandering, they don’t give a thought to the reality that there are wolves out there, prowling around, looking for a lonely sheep to devour—not unlike the devil, who, Peter says, is like a roaring lion, prowling around looking for someone to devour. They don’t give a thought to their shepherd, whom they have left behind.

Now, it’s only one sheep out of a hundred, and finding it may be difficult for the shepherd or even dangerous. The loss seems rather insignificant. But what does the shepherd do? He leaves the 99 behind and goes searching for the one that was lost. He doesn’t care that he still has the 99. He cares about the one. And when he finds it, he hoists it up onto his shoulders and lovingly carries it back home, and then all he wants to do is celebrate with all his neighbors and friends. Rejoice with me! For I have found my sheep that was lost.

Such is the care and concern of God for every sinner who has gone astray, born in sin and pursuing sin gladly in their lives. He sent His Son Jesus into the world to suffer rejection, torture, and crucifixion as the all-atoning payment for their sins—for the sins of the world. And now the risen Lord Jesus sends out ministers in His Church to call sinners to repentance, to look for them and to find them with His Word, with His law and His Gospel. And the Holy Spirit works through the Law to bring them to see how lost they were, to change their attitude toward sin, so that they no longer love it, but come to hate it. And through the Gospel the same Holy Spirit leads them to flee in faith to Christ Jesus for the forgiveness of sins. And when they do, God and His angels and all the saints, in heaven and on earth, rejoice.

The Pharisees, on the other hand, were more like the one silver coin that the woman lost. Now, a sheep may be dirty and smelly and prone to wander. But a silver coin—a drachma in Greek—was worth a lot of money. And the woman who lost it didn’t have a hundred of them; she only had ten, so losing one was an even bigger deal than losing one sheep out of a hundred. And yet, for as much value as that coin may have, it’s absolutely worthless as long as it remains lost. It can’t purchase a single thing. It’s good for nothing.

But with the same care and concern as the shepherd had for his one lost sheep, the woman in the story lights a lamp and sweeps the house and searches until she finds her one lost coin. And with the same joy as the shepherd had over finding his lost sheep, she rejoices and calls her friends and neighbors together, saying, ‘Rejoice with me! For I have found the silver coin that I lost.

The Pharisees were outwardly good citizens, shiny and valuable, like the silver coin. But still lost, still impenitent, and therefore, useless before God. They trusted in themselves, not in God. They looked down on others, instead of loving them as God demands. They were generally mean and nasty people, because pride and arrogance always end up making a person mean and nasty. But God valued them just as much as He valued the tax collectors and sinners. He wanted to find them and to have them found just as much. The blood Jesus shed on the cross for the tax collectors was the same blood He shed for the Pharisees, and His joy when any of them repented was just as great.

Now, what does repentance look like for the tax collector and sinner? It looks like coming to hate their sin, all the ways that they have been rebelling against God’s Word. It looks like being afraid of the punishment they’ve earned from God. And then, it looks like trust in the Lord Jesus, who paid for those sins, and peace and comfort in the forgiveness of sins. And then, it looks like Baptism. And then, it looks like a life lived within God’s holy Church, a life of daily contrition and repentance, a life of prayer, a life of hearing and learning God’s Word and receiving the Holy Supper of Christ’s true body and blood, a life now devoted to fighting against one’s own sinful passions and desires, a life now devoted to loving God and to loving one’s neighbor.

What does repentance look life for the Pharisee? It looks like coming to see that, apart from faith in Christ, there is no one righteous. No one has virtue. It means realizing that you can give all the offerings you want, you can pray all you want, you can tear down as many statues as you want or change as many school names as you want or advocate for as many causes as you want. You’re still miserable and wretched. You’re still condemned by God. And you’re just as sinful as all the people you have come to despise. But then, repentance for the Pharisee looks the same as it did for the tax collector and sinner. It looks like trust in the Lord Jesus, who paid for those sins, and peace and comfort in the forgiveness of sins. And then, it looks like Baptism. And then, it looks like a life lived within God’s holy Church, a life of daily contrition and repentance, a life of prayer, a life of hearing and learning God’s Word and receiving Christ’s Holy Supper, a life now devoted to fighting against one’s own sinful passions and desires, a life now devoted to loving God and to loving one’s neighbor.

What a penitent life doesn’t look like is a return to the ninety-nine righteous persons who have no need of repentance. Jesus doesn’t pick you up, drop you off in His flock, and then leave you there safe and sound so that He can go look for someone else. You’re never safe and sound without Jesus, not for a day, not for a moment. There are no “righteous persons” who have no need of repentance in this life. And there is never a moment, thank God!, when Jesus walks away from those once-lost persons whom He has found.

No, repentance looks like riding on the shoulders of the Good Shepherd all the way home. It looks like a never-ending celebration with Him in His house—in His Church—as He rejoices over you now that you’ve been found, a celebration that continues forever after this short earthly life is over.

As Peter expressed in the Epistle, repentance also means you get to cast your cares upon the Lord, because He cares for you. It means being sober and diligent as you watch out daily for the many ways in which the devil tries to lead you back to impenitence. It means resisting him, and there’s hope in that, because it means the devil can be resisted. As a penitent child of God, filled with the Holy Spirit, you can stand against the devil. You don’t have to go along with him either into open sin or into self-righteousness. You don’t have to follow him into hatred or into despair. Peter reminds us that, for as much as we may feel alone in this world, suffering so many attacks from the devil, the world, and our flesh, we aren’t alone. It just feels that way. In reality, Peter says that the same sufferings are being brought upon your brothers in the world. But the God of all grace, who has called us to his eternal glory in Christ Jesus, after you have suffered a little while, will restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. To him be the glory and the power forever and ever. Amen